Liar Liar (11 page)

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Authors: R.L. Stine

BOOK: Liar Liar
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It seems so much like home, I thought sadly. But I guess I'm as far away from home as a person can be.

I didn't have much time to feel sorry for myself. I saw Cindy on the next block, and I ran to catch up with her.

“Hey, wait up! Cindy—wait up!”

She was riding her bike, pedaling hard, her black hair bobbing behind her.

“Hey, wait!”

She finally stopped and turned around. “Ross? What's up?”

I ran over to her. “I have to tell you something,” I said breathlessly.

She started pedaling again. “We're late. What is it, Ross?”

“I'm not really Ross,” I said, struggling to keep up. “I'm Ross in a different world. And I have to get back there.”

“You have to get back to the insane asylum!” She laughed. “You and your crazy stories.”

“Cindy—please,” I begged. “I'm not kidding about this. I'm really, really, really serious.”

Her smile faded. “I don't get it. What's the joke?”

“It's not a joke,” I said. “I don't belong here. I can't stay in this world. I have to get back to where I belong. If I don't …” My voice cracked.

“All I need is for you to believe me,” I pleaded. “To believe what I'm telling you.”

She rolled her eyes. “You want me to believe that you're an alien from another planet?”

“No!” I cried. “I want you to believe that I'm Ross in a parallel universe. I—I'm an Intruder!”

As she stared at me, her eyes darted back and forth. I could see she was thinking hard, trying to decide.

I crossed my fingers behind my back. “Do you believe me, Cindy?” I asked. “Do you?”

“Okay,” she said finally. “Okay. I believe you.”

“Great!” I cried. “Thank you! Thank you!”

“I also believe that the moon is made of Limburger cheese,” Cindy said. “And I believe that I can flap my arms and fly to Mars anytime I want.” She burst out laughing.

“Wait! I can prove it to you!” I said.

I don't know why I didn't think of this before. But I could show Cindy that I was an Intruder!

“Watch this!” I said. I fell onto the grass, landing on my back. “Intruders destroy things. Right?”

Cindy just rolled her eyes.

“When I get up, the grass will burn and sizzle. You'll see.”

I pressed my back hard into the grass. I wanted to make sure the grass turned totally brown.

I stood up. “Okay. Look.”

We both stared down at the ground.

“Whoa.” Cindy's eyes opened wide. “That's unbelievable. Flat grass.”

Flat grass. That was it. The grass lay flat where I had fallen. Still green. Not burned at all.

Why didn't it work this time? I wondered, staring at the grass. My twin could probably tell me, but it really didn't matter now.

The only thing that mattered was making Cindy believe me.

“Cindy—” I glanced up, but she was gone. I watched her pedal away, bumping over the curb, onto the next block. “I'm not giving up,” I said out loud. “No way.”

But a sharp stab of pain made me grab my head. I shut my eyes, trying to force the pain away.

“Ohhh,” I groaned as my stomach started to ache. I bent over as the pain increased, as if thousands of razors pierced my stomach. The pain was so intense, I couldn't walk.

I hunched at the curb, doubled over in agony. My head. My stomach. It's happening, I realized. Just as my twin predicted. The horrible pain …

I forced myself to walk to school. I knew I didn't have much time. I had to find someone to believe my story.

I tried Max next. I found him at his locker across from Miss Douglas's class. “Max, listen to me,” I said. “I'm an Intruder. I'm not really Ross.”

He laughed. “Whatever,” he said, and started toward class.

“Max—wait!” I called. “Please! If I told you a totally wild, totally insane story about me slipping between parallel worlds … if I told you that I'm not really the Ross you know, and that I don't belong here in your world … if I swore it was all true … would you believe me? Is there any chance at all you would believe me?”

He opened his mouth to answer. “No way—” he started.

“Think about it,” I said. “Don't answer right away. Think about it, okay?”

He nodded. “I've thought about it.”

“And?” I asked.

“And I think you're trying to get out of helping me wash my father's car,” he said. “Nice try. But it won't work. You promised. See you after school. And don't forget to bring the car wax.”

“Max—why won't you believe me?” I shouted.

“Everyone knows your crazy stories, Ross,” he said grinning. “Everyone.”

The bell rang.

Max shouted goodbye and hurried down the hall to class. I watched him for a moment, his words repeating in my mind.

Words of doom.

I could feel panic tighten my throat. My legs shook again as I slumped into Miss Douglas's classroom. I saw her standing at the side of her desk, straightening a pile of papers.

And suddenly I realized: She has to believe me.

She's a teacher. She has to believe her students.

If I beg her to believe me, she'll see how desperate I am. She won't be like my friends and think it's all a big joke.

Because why would I joke with a teacher? And I bet she knows all about parallel worlds.

I began to feel hopeful again. Just a little hope. But enough to make me think I might be able to return home after all.

“Miss Douglas!” I called.

Eyes turned as I tossed my backpack to the floor and took off running to the front of the room.

“Miss Douglas! Can I tell you something?”

Miss Douglas didn't believe me, either.

She thought I was trying to get out of taking a test. “But I have to admit this is one of your better stories, Ross,” she snickered, shaking her head.

“Go take your seat,” she said, waving me away. “I'm sure you'll have an even better story for me tomorrow.”

I trudged across the room to my desk.

There won't be a tomorrow, I thought bitterly.

There won't be a tomorrow for me because no one will believe me.

So what if I'm a liar? So what if I make up stories all the time?

Why can't someone believe me when I do tell the truth?

After class I tried to stand up. But I felt weak. I could feel my strength draining away.

My backpack suddenly weighed a ton. It took real effort to raise my shoes from the floor and make my way to my next class.

No one is going to believe me, I realized. Even my teacher thinks it's a big joke.

But I knew I had to keep trying.

In line at the lunchroom I asked one of the lunch servers if she believed in parallel worlds. She stared at me and asked if I wanted pizza or macaroni.

I looked for Sharma. But some kids told me she and her family went away for a few days.

After school I told my story to the tennis team coach. Coach Melvin listened silently, squeezing a tennis ball in one hand.

When I finished, he thought for a moment. Then he said, “I once had a dream like that. You can skip practice today, Ross, if you're upset about your dream.”

He hurried off to start practice.

With a sigh I tried to sling my tennis racket onto my shoulder. But I didn't have the strength. I couldn't raise it that high.

My backpack felt too heavy to carry. My legs felt so weak, I kept stumbling on the sidewalk. The wind blew me off the grass onto the curb.

Feeling lost and defeated, I headed for home. It's as good a place to disappear as any, I thought sadly.

My twin greeted me at the front door. “You're back?”

I nodded weakly, struggling to catch my breath. Stomach cramps made it hard to breathe. My head throbbed with pain.

My twin followed me outside. I slumped wearily against a tree.

“You failed, huh?” he said. He had a crooked smile on his face, as if he was enjoying my suffering. “Sorry,” he said. “The sun is heading down. I don't think you have much time.”

“I … know …” I whispered.

I stared hard at him. The sinking sun made his face glow. His gray eyes gleamed in the soft light.

I gazed at him, so healthy, so strong, so … alive.

And suddenly I had an idea.

Suddenly I knew how I could save myself.

I pointed at the other Ross. “You!” I said.

He took a step back. And narrowed his eyes at me. “Me? What about me?”

“YOU believe me!” I cried. “YOU believe the story. So—I'm safe! You said I need only one person to believe my story—and it's YOU!”

To my surprise, he burst out laughing.

“I've won!” I insisted. “I can go back to my world now.”

He shook his head and laughed again.

“What's so funny?” I demanded. “This is serious. I did exactly what you told me to do. I found someone to believe me. You! You! You! So now I'm safe.”

“No, you're not,” he replied, still grinning. “I lied.”

“You what?” I cried.

“I'm you—remember?” he said. “I'm your exact double, Ross. You're Ross—and I'm Ross. We're the same, right? So … sometimes I make up stories.”

“You mean … you mean …” I swallowed hard. I suddenly felt weaker. I staggered back onto the front lawn. Smacked hard into the tree trunk.

A gust of wind pushed me away. I pressed my back into the trunk.

“You mean … that's not the way to return to my world?” I whispered.

He raised a hand to his mouth. “Oops! Guess I made up a little story.”

“But—but—that's so cold!” I gasped.

He shrugged. “Whatever. I'm you, remember? I'm you in every way. Except that I belong here, and you don't.”

The wind lifted me off my feet. I grabbed the trunk to pull myself back to the ground.

“You're fading away,” my twin said. “You're practically gone.”

I glanced at my hands. I could see right through them. I could see through my arms.

The wind picked me up again. I dived for the tree trunk and flung my filmy arms around it.

I'm going to blow away, I realized. Like a dead leaf.

I felt so weak … weak and drained.

Holding tightly to the tree trunk, I turned to my twin. “Aren't you going to help me?” I pleaded. “Are you just going to let me disappear?”

“I can't help you,” he said. “It's too late.”

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